


Write It Down For Me

by Streetlamp_Sunset



Series: Diamonds and Crows [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family Feels, Family Heirlooms, Gen, Inspired by Taylor Swift, Next-Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28310343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Streetlamp_Sunset/pseuds/Streetlamp_Sunset
Summary: “Your mom’s is in here too,” she said, tipping her head to look up at him, “we should bring it to her this weekend.” They had a standing appointment for Sunday dinner at the cottage, their littleBrewer-Rose-Budd-Mullens-Schittfamily.“Not so sure that’s her style,” RJ said, but his hand sunk into the fur as he spoke.“I don’t know,” Theia hummed, cheek resting over the warm flannel of his chest, “Jocelyn might like to have it now.”“Yeah,” he agreed softly, “I think she just might.”Ted and Alexis' daughter finds Moira's things in their attic.
Relationships: Moira Rose & Original Character(s), Theia Rose Mullens & Roland Moira Schitt
Series: Diamonds and Crows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073393
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Write It Down For Me

“Theia?”

Theia swiped at her cheeks with the cuff of her sweater and glanced up to find RJ halfway up the ladder to her parent’s attic. 

“Hey,” he said, eyebrows creased with concern, “your dad’s almost finished with dinner, you about done here?”

“I don’t think so,” she said slowly.

Theia sat curled among a dusty collection of things she hadn’t meant to unearth. She’d never bothered with the attic. Her fingers shook against the yellowing paper. No one had _told_ her this was all still around. 

RJ hauled himself into the room and made his way across the floor to settle beside her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, palm sweeping down her spine. Theia bit her lip, picking out the shimmering specs floating in the scattered streams of daylight. She shook her head, folding into his side. 

“Teddy?”

She must’ve looked as much of a mess as she felt. RJ had called her Theodora once in school. _Teddy_ was reserved for when her whole face fell, chest wobbling, ribs unspooling.

Theia nudged the box in his direction.

“Moira,” she whispered. 

“Oh.” 

“Mmm.”

RJ’s hand closed over her own. Swoopy letters curled beneath their fingers, whole pages of them. Moira’s more tame correspondence with her husband. Old scripts. Award speeches that had been heavily edited by Alexis.

They melted into each other, pouring over the words. 

“Her furs?” RJ asked, carefully folding the last of them away. 

Theia laughed, a startled sound. They had spent hours playing dress up with them as kids. She reached out to drag another box from against the wall. 

“Your mom’s is in here too,” she said, tipping her head to look up at him, “we should bring it to her this weekend.” They had a standing appointment for Sunday dinner at the cottage, their little _Brewer-Rose-Budd-Mullens-Schitt_ family. 

“Not so sure that’s her style,” RJ said, but his hand sunk into the fur as he spoke.

“I don’t know,” Theia hummed, cheek resting over the warm flannel of his chest, “Jocelyn might like to have it now.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, “I think she just might.”

Theia dug out a photo album. Her heart stopped on a polaroid of the Jazzagals performing at her parents’ wedding reception.

“Oh, babe, look,” she traced the inscription. _Me and my gals._

“We should frame this,” RJ suggested quietly, “Moira Jo Mullens?” 

“Not Schitt?” Theia asked teasingly, but that one felt right. Moira Jo. It was cute, fitting.

“Nah,” RJ said, “I think the world has enough Schitts.”

“Oh my god,” Theia laughed, “Roland’s going to be devastated.” 

“Dad’ll live,” RJ said easily, “he’s got Fish and Lark.”

“True,” Theia hummed, aiming for neutral. Uncle David was clear enough for the both of them on how incorrect  _ those _ names were. But honestly, what more could they expect from a man christened Mutt.

From RJ’s snort she hadn’t exactly been successful. His hand slid from the small of her back to rest over her stomach. 

“Well, what do you think, baby?” he asked, “does Moira Jo Mullens sound alright?”

MJ’s tiny feet fluttered against his palm. 

**Author's Note:**

> This one's based on Marjorie by Taylor Swift, because I can't get it out of my head.  
> Thank you very much for reading!!  
> ❤️ Sunset


End file.
